Just four months ago

Which of the following is true:

a) Jammies on the left are the baby's, jammies on the right are the preschooler's.
b) Jammies on the left are the preschooler's, jammies on the right are mine (OK, I am short).
c) Jammies on the left were the baby's when she was born, jammies on the right are what the baby is wearing now.

The correct answer, of course, is c).

I was sorting baby clothes today, putting the 0-3 month stuff in storage and making sure there were enough 3-6 month items. I remembered the tiniest pajamas the baby first wore; she was born a couple of weeks early, weighing 6 pounds even, and preemie jammies (of which the small pair in the picture are) fit her pretty easily. She has grown so much in 4 short months, as the other sleeper shows.

I always felt a little nostalgic when my preschool daughter outgrew clothes, especially my favorite outfits. I would never see her in them again, except possibly in photos! It is nice having a second daughter, because I get the pleasure of seeing a baby in the same outfits (and doubly fun since the baby is almost a little clone of her big sister at the same age). But now that she's already starting to outgrow clothes, it's more bittersweet this time. I don't know if there will be other babies to wear these clothes.

My pregnancy with my older daughter was VERY easy, although it took six months of very calculated trying to conceive her. When she was about 14 months old, we decided to try for another baby. A couple of months later, I was pregnant...and a few weeks after that, I miscarried. This happened three more times in the next year and a half, followed by a full year of trying with no success. Finally, when I got pregnant in March of last year, it stuck.

I hoped for another easy, enjoyable pregnancy like I'd had with my older daughter, but from the start, it was difficult. I had spotting fairly regularly for the first half, and was chronically tired throughout the entire pregnancy: napping the day away the first trimester, getting a little energy back in the second, but then wearing myself out dragging my huge belly around the last three months. My back and hips ached, my pelvic bone was sore from the baby resting against it, and though I thought I had experienced heartburn in my first pregnancy, the acid reflux I experienced this last time showed me I did not know how bad heartburn can be (who knew that water could give you heartburn???)

Now that the baby is here, I feel much better of course. But the thought of going through that again, whenever I start to think about the possibility of a third child, always gives me pause when I remember. I'm not exactly old, but four and a half years between pregnancies when you are 30-something is much different than it is if you are 20-something, I'm guessing. If it were to take another four years to achieve and carry a pregnancy...I can't even think about it. Assuming I can carry another pregnancy.

Realizing this, that this might be my last baby, I appreciate every little thing that much more. With my first daughter, I was in the throes of post-partum depression from the start and did not realize how fast it would go. This time, I'm holding on to everything. Those first magic days when her dark newborn eyes pierced me to the core, like an ancient sage. Her first smile, first giggle, those precious times when watching her sleep is all I want to do.

It's so ironic...when you can't wait to see what they'll grow up to be, but at the same time you wish time would just stop.